It isn’t easy to be vegetarian in Paris. I learned this the hard way with my first café lunch, Salade de gésiers confits, which I quickly discovered means salad with preserved gizzards. Why would anyone go to the trouble of preserving a gizzard, much less putting it on a lunch plate? Well, taste is a very personal thing, and as it turns out Parisians have a history of eclectic cuisine including one that trumps escargot, fois gras and whispers of horse meant: human flesh.

As recently as 2010 French prisoner Nicolas Cocaign was convicted for tasting his cellmate’s lung before cooking it with shallots, garlic and leftover rice. But, no gizzards. In 1981, Sorbonne student Issei Sagawa refrigerated the remains of a fellow student and would-be girlfriend after he’d eaten his fill of her. Sagawa was arrested while not so discretely dumping the remains of her remains into a nearby lake, but he was extradited to his native Japan, and today he is quite the celebrity. An American in Paris, reporter William Seabrook, attempted to demystify the taste of human flesh during the 1930′s using the body of a recently deceased hospital patient and cooking it on a spit. He reported it tasted like veal. All in the name of research. Of course, that wasn’t the first time a corpse had be sold for science; it was common centuries ago at the Cimetière des Innocents.

Having personally decided to avoid Parisian cafes and restaurants, I kept busy soaking up more history with a Dark Heart of Paris tour that introduced more macabre stories. Hints of dark diets were recorded as early as 1590 during the Siege of France. Faced with famine and having taken to eating dogs, cats, tallow and grass, resourceful Parisians decided to repurpose natural resources from the vast and reeking Cemetery of the Innocents, grinding old bones into “flour” and baking it into bread. This didn’t last long though, because those who ate it died mysteriously. The cemetery was overcrowded for decades (because the church profited from burial fees), with bones eventually stacked into arched walls under which food merchants sold their wares. At least until the food began to rapidly spoil in the proximity of odorous corpses. Eventually, after prolonged rains in the late 1700s, during which residents’ wine cellars were said to have collapsed with the subterranean weight of rotting bodies, Louis XVI forbade further burials in Paris and the long process of moving bones to the famous Catacombs began. As corpse carriers exhumed remains from the church yards, Parisians discovered that incompletely decomposed bodies had turned to fat (margaric acid), which the ever-resourceful population promptly used to make candles and, yes, soap. Proving that cleanliness was in fact next to godliness.

Footnote: Although I did eventually experience a sublime pescatarian meal at Le Wauthier in Saint-Germain-en-Laye, I spent most of my culinary time in Paris indulging my taste for chocolat. More on that next.

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Maybe it’s just a dopamine reaction from the absurd amount of post-Valentines chocolate I’ve consumed, but this weekend I’m getting the peaced-out result of my yoga practice.

It started Friday when I found myself practicing stillness, not by choice, but because I was stuck in Presidents Day Weekend exodus traffic on 85N en route to Buckhead. Few things are more frustrating and stress inducing than Atlanta traffic, especially if some kid (an otherwise wonderful kid) is texting you six times in 10 minutes to find out when you, his personal driver, ever will pick him up. I decided to ignore the harassment and practice the Pranayama I’ve only sort of learned. And in a weird way, 15 minutes trapped with relentless attention to consistent breathing, kept me relaxed-ish.

When I arrived to pick up my hurried little passenger, who was counting the minutes to get into another car bound for the beach, I delivered a classic ill-timed Mom message about dealing with situations beyond our control, stress, health, breathing and unnecessary texting. I was pleasantly shocked when he reminded me I’d already taught him to “breathe like the ocean.” With that, I took him home. He hopped into his anxiously awaiting dad’s car and settled in among luggage, Grandpop and an eager dog.

Dad immediately got rolling and backed into the mailman’s truck, so they all had to wait another hour while the police came to do their thing.

I waved to them all as I drove past on my way to yoga. And I felt pretty okay about not trying to control the uncontrollable. In fact, I felt like I’d already done my yoga teaching experiment for the day, and I didn’t even bother to worry about co-teaching the evening’s class as part of my teacher training requirements. Okay, maybe I worried a little…  After class my instructor corrected me on nuances of Eagle pose, and I appreciated the feedback. By now I know that different teachers instruct very differently. My honest reply was, “I feel like the more I learn the less I know.”

Oh well, I guess the yogic lesson is you have to fail (or fall, or say the wrong thing) in order to succeed. Or, maybe you just give up trying to control too many things, and instead try to breathe and flow through whatever comes your way whenever you can. Because it’s entirely likely that a metaphorical mailman’s truck will sneak up behind you when you least expect it and change all your plans.

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Somewhere in China there are two grandmothers I wish I could thank for  a super supper.

Our new friend Ruby, who is visiting from Beijing, not only is a globe trotting student, but also a no-shortcuts wiz in the kitchen thanks to everyday lessons from family matriarchs. She spent her first Super Bowl in the U.S. making bowls of steaming vegetable dishes alongside our own Veggie Kid. And their choreography was so seamless we almost forgot to watch Beyoncé.

Among the highlights: Ruby’s Secret Weapon Bok Choy, a healthy sauté of Chinese cabbage with mushrooms in a clear broth seasoned with a surprising, “you can’t get these here,” spice similar to anise; and her Tofu Soup, a mild broth loaded with chewy balls of rice flour, strips of tofu, whole cloves of garlic and colorful carrots. Meanwhile, Veggie Kid diced a confetti of red peppers, ginger, carrots, garlic, and more in preparation for sizzling Spring Rolls with dipping sauce. I tried to armchair quarterback his process, but he shut me down faster that the power at you-know-where.

As Ruby told us about her passion for vegetarian cooking, I wondered if her kitchen counterpart remembered that the reason we became vegetarian was the influence of The China Study. I wanted to point out this fun commonality, but I was too busy chewing and feeling just a little sorry for all those football fans woofing down wings, burgers and barbecue. But in the spirit of the instant replay, I can offer our own version of sautéed Bok Choy. You can get all the ingredients right here, and you’ll feel like a champion for choosing a dish full of fiber, Vitamin A, Vitamin C, calcium and flavor, yet low in calories. I’m not much of a football fan, but I know a smart play when I see one:

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Lying flat on the floor, I vowed to be better.

It was the final shavasana of my Monday morning hot yoga class, a 90-minute detox that left me horizontal in a puddle of sweat where I earnestly vowed to live purely and healthfully from then on. That intention lasted until lunchtime; almost two whole hours.

That was when I met the Kimchee Mary at  Seven Lamps, and now I have seen the light. Who knew a concoction of tyku soju, kimchee, korean chili flake, sweet soy and a few other goodies could be so, well good; so much better than the best bloody mary. Too bad it was barely noon, or I surely would have digressed into tasting other imaginative cocktails by Seven Lamps co-owner/mixologist Arianne Felder (the tattooed and talented blonde bartender last seen at Southern Art Bourbon Bar). Certainly the Inigo Montoya with sombra mezcal and house made soda would have been an appealing next step toward my decent, but the list of craft cocktails, beers and unusual jerk sodas offers plenty of temptations.

Then again, one could argue that the Kimchee was the healthiest choice. Chef/Co-owner Drew Van Leuvan (previously at ONE Midtown Kitchen) dishes out a diverse lunch menu full of Southern decadence served in small portions at communal tables. But he must not anticipate many vegetarians ’round these parts. The Smoked Ruby Beets with medjool dates taste like sweet heaven, but that’s because of the bacon jam. The Wood Grilled Baby Gem & Belgian Endive Salad involves pancetta aplenty. Even the vegetable of the day, divine brussels sprouts, was seasoned with the pork of the day. Sigh. But I might as well admit tasting the rich Potato & Roasted Garlic Soup with smoked cream, as well as the Bucheron, and I considered, just for a dark moment, the Humbolt Fog goat cheese or the house made Pimento Cheese.

With all this temptation and promise, it’s a good thing I have four more mornings of sweaty yoga and good intentions ahead of me. But when the weekend comes, a dinner visit to Seven Lamps is in order (see a first bite review from LuxeCrush), and a Jalepeno Tequila toast with a side of sea salted watermelon will be exactly the kind of electrolyte replenishment I plan to find.

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The last thing I expected to get out of a day-long yoga session was reinforcement for my chocolate addiction.

But hey, who am I to complain? With studies of ahimsa (the yogic pledge to do no harm) behind us, and a long afternoon of sweaty asanas ahead of us, my fellow yogis-in-training and I spent our lunch break woofing down healthy, raw, vegetarian meals and comparing notes on food philosophy. Maybe we were ready for a little indulgence because when Devyn Baklini introduced us to this Vegan Chocolate Mousse from Food52, we were ready to throw in our extra absorbent skidless towels and head strait for our kitchens. This treat not only promises delicious decadence, but also dodges dairy with a secret nutrient-dense ingredient: creamy avocados that do no harm. So, does that mean eating this dessert is as enriching doing yoga? You decide.

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A generous dash of cayenne lends a fiery kick to this flourless confection.

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Whether we’re giving thanks for a lottery win or for more subtle gifts, this salad is a celebratory start for a feast to remember.

What would you do if you won a $53,000 lottery? When Bart Potenza and Joy Pierson had the good fortune to ask themselves that question nearly two decades ago, their answer was investing in a new vegan restaurant, New York City’s Candle Cafe, and later, the more upscale Candle 79. Now it’s time for our prize: the release of the “Candle 79 Cookbook: Modern Vegan Classics from New York’s Premier Sustainable Restaurant,” and in conjunction with The New York Times’ Well Vegetarian Thanksgiving series, we can sample what these pros know before reading the book or booking a trip to NYC. The three-course holiday meal, offers a creamy Jerusalem artichoke soup, a savory saffron ravioli with wild mushrooms or butternut squash, and this colorful Beet, Fennel and Fig starter. We especially like the way seasonal cranberries lend tangy color to a dressing that subtley marries other favorite fall flavors: sage, shallots, rosemary and maple syrup.

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Looking for inspiration on World Kindness Day? No al consumo de huevos!

Poaching turtle eggs and selling them to bars and restaurants is a major threat to endangered sea turtles. But newly established Cotorco, a group dedicated to  the conservation of marine turtles surrounding Corcovado National Park on Costa Rica’s remote Osa peninsula, is working to educate against poaching and overfishing.

Their cause gently reminds us that the things we buy to eat or wear have implications beyond our immediate satisfaction. Cotorco leaders and volunteers often patrol Carate beach, a pristine stretch of the Osa largely untouched by tourism, and an ideal nesting site for four species of endangered turtles. Both volunteers and locals cover mile after mile of dark sand, often passing the time by debating how long the ancient sea turtle species had thrived before mankind started wreaking havoc on the environment. The answer turns out to be about 200 million years, easily predating the dinosaurs. That these enduring creatures are endangered is an important environmental indicator. So, be kind to turtles. Check out ways to help at www.cotorco.org.

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Today’s post combines two of Full DISHclosure’s ATL faves: the promise of new tastes from adventurous Top Chef Kevin Gillespie, and the perspective of LuxeCrush Editor Nancy Staab. She takes a First Look at Gillespie’s Fire in My Belly, a “highly idiosyncratic if not wonderfully schizophrenic cookbook that thinks nothing of offering up Coca-Cola braised pot roast using real Mexican Coca-Cola and chicken pot pie.” And we’re glad to just take her word for that one. Of course the cookbook offers everything from comfortable Southern-inspired pork belly with bok choy, to a tempting African squash tart with whipped eggnog topping, but what really fires us up is the chapter labeled “When I Want to Eat Healthy.” (Well okay, the “Some Like It Hot ” chapter sounds motivating too.) It’s a lesser-known fact that Gillespie is a magician with a mushroom and his five or seven course vegetarian or vegan menu at Woodfire Grill is one of the best kept heathy-meets-decadent secrets in the South. Trust us. It already has us burning up a path from the bookstore to our kitchen.

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